


REGRETS.

by XDTAthens



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Character Study, Reader's relation is up to you, final message, personal headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XDTAthens/pseuds/XDTAthens
Summary: During an expedition to the planet of Themiscyra to uncover the truth about the forgotten Vault Hunter, you stumble upon an old message from an old man.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	REGRETS.

There’s an older ECHO log on the ground of the Temple of the Starwatcher.

You blow into the log and plug it into your tape player.

“Journal 019.”

The voice that comes from the recorder is familiar, though much lower. Whether the man speaks quietly out of fatigue or just as a symptom of his age is unknown.

“I visited little Rose today. I met an older gentleman. His eyes were… kind. Too kind for me. I don’t even know how many years it’s been since we left Pandora. Decades, maybe. Even so, people still remember the tales. A massive… bloodthirsty beast. Even now my past shame still burdens my step.”

There’s a deep breath before the voice continues, clearer this time. Out of the corner of your eye you see the glint of metal, but before you can make anything else out, the deep-voiced man has pulled you back in with his mesmerizing voice.

“Back to the older gentleman. He… he wasn’t afraid. I suppose I should stop referring to him as “older gentleman”, considering he looked to be my age. Is it vain of me to think of myself as much younger than I really am?”

There’s a small snort at the end of his voice and, after a moment, he gives a soft laugh as if he was listening to someone else.

“Yeah, you’re right big guy. We’ll always be the meat man.”

A chill runs through the room. Superstition, perhaps? Is there a draft in here? Does the pang of familiarity at the name make your blood just a little colder? Not out of hate or fear, but a deep sorrow; a longing, nostalgic want for something that is likely long gone. Nevertheless, the historians back on Eden-6 would love to have this. Certainly, the late Sir Hammerlock would have loved to listen to this.

“It never gets easier. That’s what he told me. His name was Dane. It’s funny, ain’t it? I read somewhere that the name came from an old country, back when humans didn’t dance among the stars and when corporations just sold shit like shoes.

Dane remembers. He remembers when this planet wasn’t as safe as it is now. He remembers the wars. As do I. I fought in them, for fuck’s sake. Nearly all of them. We all lost folks. He lost wife… and his baby girl. She had only been three. The mother and daughter had been buried together. I asked him how long ago.

Fifty years. I suppose that’s how long it’s been for us, too. For our first family. Then we lost our second one… and our third…”

The recording skips just as the man’s voice starts to crack, and it’s obvious that parts of the tape have been purposely cut out.

“Dane had been visiting the mausoleum every day. I’m surprised at how pristine it looks, even after all this time. A single mausoleum for all the Themiscyrans who perished over the years. A royal decree. We’re all family, or something like that. I think Rebekka was just tired. Tired of losing everything.”

There’s a small pause, a whisper, and then another chuckle, followed by a coughing fit and the sound of the man clearing his throat.

“I guess we really are old men, huh? We’re even rambling like one.”

The metal glints again. It’s an older buzzaxe, but it’s what’s attached to it that’s more interesting. You grip your flashlight and the recording fades to background noise as you cautiously move to the body holding the axe in a death grip. Literally.

“I never saw Dane again after that day. I only learned later that he passed peacefully in his sleep. Rare thing, that. Peace, anywhere in the Borderlands. I wonder, was his mind clear when he went? Did he leave any regrets when he left?”

The towering body holding the buzzaxe seems to be somewhere around 15 to 20 feet, much, much larger than the legends said of the Vault Hunter. There are clean bandages around his head, and the thought would have freaked you out, had you not seen that they were clearly as old as the body… just not bloody. The body sits in a simple if comfortable chair that has clearly been custom made for his height. Hanging respectfully to the side of his chair (more of a throne, really) is a worn and faded gas mask. The man wears a larger fur jacket and a crown, standard wear for Themiscyran royalty, but his pants are what stand out to you.

They are orange. Prison pants. They even have his prisoner number printed on them and the words “Property of Hyperion” stitched on the left thigh.

The body seems to have been here for a while, but none dared to move it. Even if they wanted to, the dilapidated Temple is unstable; the architecture is barely holding together as is, and there’s a massive hole in the ceiling just above the man’s body, shining light upon him.

“When I go…”

The voice startles you out of your thoughts. It had been quite a few minutes since the recording had stopped, and you had assumed it had ended.

“When I go, I want a clear conscience. I want people to know who I am… no, who we are.”

With a final shudder, the man’s voice begins to wind down.

“My name is Isaac Amos. I was a prince once. Then a soldier. Then a prisoner, a Vault Hunter, a Crimson Raider, a psychiatric patient, a king. All of it… it seems so long ago. I was never in it for the glory, never for knowledge either. I fell in love with a blue haired beauty, and then I fell in love with all the friends I made along the way. I fought with dignity and honor to protect the ones I loved. And I think of all the things, that is what I am most proud of. 

My name is Isaac. It is Krieg, Mutt, Big Guy, Meat Man, Ice Prince. And I love you. All of you. It’s been an honor to fight with all of you. To be by your side. To have even a small hand in what you’ve done. I go willingly. This is my last message.”

He looks at peace.


End file.
